


Time

by NarcissisticAsshole



Series: Salmon Petals [2]
Category: Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: Character Study, Descent into Madness, Drabble, Gen, Hearing Voices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:41:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29177361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarcissisticAsshole/pseuds/NarcissisticAsshole
Summary: They want vengeance.But alas, he sleeps.Aka, Arthas and his time when he's just there sitting in his throne vibing
Series: Salmon Petals [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146617
Kudos: 2





	Time

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell i literally have not played WoW but i still love Warcraft can you t e l l
> 
> Anyway yes did i ever mention my absolute love for Warcraft III? Probably one of the best games i've ever played till this point in my life so yeah it was kind of a crime i never really wrote anything for these guys!
> 
> Because Arthas is the character who fascinates me the most he's getting a oneshot, sorry Illidan my man! You were a close one though!
> 
> Welp enjoy this short thing- don't be surprised if this suddenly turns into a series and you see a bunch of other oneshots cause i genuinely enjoyed writing this one and might do others soon!

He sits in his frozen throne, coldness seeping through the never ending waves of wind that are characteristic of the cold and icy lands he not too long ago first arrived at, filled with expectations of revenge and an ending to the curse that had befallen his homeland.

His eyes are closed- have been for a long time. The only sound one can hear is silence, constantly interrupted by the sound of the high pitched wind, making his now silver hair wave and weave through air almost like a melody.

The wind carries screams, too. Screams of the damned, of the cursed and the undead. Pleads, begs, hopeless wishes for an end to their eternal existence. No one is there to listen to their performance.

No one but him.

He's always liked being the center of attention. His jubilous and arrogant nature buys him that right, and his place as heir of a throne grants him permission to be vocal about it.

Or rather, it did.

Before he chained himself with a key and threw it into the ocean. A rather tragic tale born out of ignorance and good will, and one that ended with his final decision before the key was lifted into the air for one final time before entering the depths of the ocean, hidden behind darkness and murky intentions.

The whispers disagree, though. They sing of betrayal and corruption, of arrogance and madness and a stinging conclusion. The voices are bitter and seek a conclusion to their unfortunate ends, yet their souls lay corrupted, chained in a similar way to the one responsible for it all.

They want vengeance.

But alas, he sleeps.

And he will, until his time has arrived. So it all remains the same; whispers following the wind, icy coldness slowly taking control of the King's armored body which hides unnaturally white skin.

And it's all the same.

(Until his eyes open and it's not.)


End file.
